Name
by PugNTurtle
Summary: When Jeff Jarrett puts Lilian Garcia in the Figure Four, she doesn't expect anyone to help her out... and when he does, she's not even sure who he is... ONESHOT. Some bad language herein.


Okay, so this is just a onesie that I've had in my mind for years, literally…

I disclaim. All WWE characters belong to Vince McMahon and their respective counterparts.

* * *

She was green…

… but she wasn't stupid.

Not by a long shot.

So why… why the little blonde didn't take off running when Jeff Jarrett strode purposely towards her was beyond her.

Lilian Garcia sat defiantly, glancing toward the timekeeper, Marc Yeaton, as the wrestler stopped in front of her.

"What the hell did you say?" Jarrett yelled at the new ring announcer, his hands going to his hips.

Lilian glared up at him, setting her jaw defiantly as she began, "I said-"

"I don't care what you said," Jarrett cut her off, and Lilian stood, wanting to put as much distance between her and the wrestler as possible. "You are a woman… you don't even deserve a place in this ring," Jeff ranted.

Lilian backed up, not watching where she was going. She felt the ring steps behind her, and she backed up the ring steps, feeling overly clumsy in her high heels. "He told me that Luna was the winner-" she tried again, only to gasp in surprise when she fell through the ropes, landing on her back.

Jeff didn't speak up; rather, he grabbed her leg, pulling her to the middle of the ring. Lilian felt her stomach fall when she realized what he was going to do.

The same thing he had done to two female legends last week… the same thing he was threatening Chyna with every week.

Before she knew what was happening, Jarrett had her legs twisted, her left ankle crossed over her right knee. Desperately, she screamed, trying to plead with the wrestler who hated women before he locked the move in completely.

But it was too late.

Lilian screamed in pain when Jarrett hooked his left knee over her ankle, the submission hold known as the Figure Four Leg Lock effectively locked in.

"Please, let go," the little blonde pleaded, arching her back slightly as she tried to relieve the pressure on her knees, to no avail.

"You need to be taught a lesson," Jarrett taunted her, rocking back and pulling down on her right ankle, sending shockwaves through her knees.

"Please, stop," Lilian sobbed, reaching out and tapping the mat like she had seen the wrestlers do many times to signify that they gave up.

Still, Jarrett continued to torture her, pulling on her foot and rocking yet again. "Come on," she heard Debra pleading, pulling at Jeff. "Let her go!" The wrestler merely swatted at his manager, keeping the hold locked in.

"Damn it, Jeff, let go!" she heard the referee of the match, Chad Patton, she thought it was, yell. "You're gonna break her damn leg!"

"That's one less female this company would have to worry about," Jarrett replied snarkily, again, yanking down on her ankle.

"I'm sorry," Lilian sobbed, all of her dignity flying out the window. "Please… just let go!"

"No," Jarrett yelled back.

Lilian heard a cheer erupt from the crowd, and she briefly wondered why the crowd was enjoying this display of torture. A few seconds later, she felt Jarrett's legs detangle from hers, the blonde man standing up, his managers scattering out of the ring as fast as their heels would allow.

The little blonde ring announcer rolled to the side, her hands going to grip her right knee. Her left knee didn't feel too great itself, but the right one was what she was mainly concerned about…

It was then that she realized that Jarrett was trading punches with someone… someone she wasn't sure exactly of who he exactly was. She knew the face, but… she was new. The name wasn't that familiar and she didn't have her little book with her at the moment…

But that was the least of her worries right now. Lilian hissed in pain when the referee of the match placed a hand on her knee.

"Lilian, are you okay?" Patton asked, his voice apologetic for not being able to stop Jarrett from hurting her.

"I… I don't know," the little blonde replied, her right leg extended in front of her, watching as the brown haired man easily deposited Jarrett out of the ring.

"What hurts?" Another referee asked, and she looked up, trying to remember his name. This guy had a tough one… Chiosha or something along those lines.

"My freaking wrist hurts," Lilian couldn't help but snap. "He put me in the Figure Four Leg Lock; what do you think hurts?"

The third referee, Long, she thought, snickered, smirking at his blushing colleague as he pointed out, "She's got a point there, Mike."

"Shut up," Mike glared at Long, bringing his attention back to Lilian, smiling hesitantly at the blonde. "Do you think you can walk out of here?"

"I… I don't know," Lilian answered. "He had me locked up for a long time there."

The brown haired man kneeled down next to the little blonde, placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Lilian stiffened slightly when she saw Jarrett stand up outside the ring, her knee throbbing harder than it had been moments before. "Don't worry," the man said softly, glaring down at Jarrett. "He's not gonna lay another hand on you."

She nodded hesitantly, tilting her head up as she tried to flex her knee, only to send shockwaves of pain through her leg.

"Ay, maldito sea, eso duele," the small blonde hissed in her native tongue, sheepishly meeting the gaze of the man who had saved her. "What?" she asked self-consciously.

"I'm not sure I want to know what means," he chuckled, extending a hand down to her.

Hesitantly, she reached up, accepting the gesture. He pulled her up easily, allowing her to stand for a few moments on her own as she tested her weight against her aching limbs.

Lilian nearly fell over at the first step, ashamed at her own weakness, but relieved that the brown haired man instantly wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "I… thanks," she murmured, leaning slightly into her savior for the night, aware of the fact that Chiosha… or Mike, whatever his name was, had a hand around her back to help her stand as well.

She limped to the edge of the mat with the mystery man's and the referee's help, dropping down so she could awkwardly roll out of the ring. The man who had helped her quickly jumped out of the ring, stepping up so he was in front of her as she sat on the edge of the ring, thinking briefly that it was a good idea to wear pants tonight.

"Here," he said softly, taking her small arm and wrapping it around his shoulders and lifting her easily with his muscular arms. "Let me carry you out of here."

"I… I can walk," Lilian answered, though she made no move to pull away from his grasp.

"I'm sure you can," he chuckled. "But I'm also sure you don't want 18,000 people staring at you when you're struggling."

Lilian glanced at the people in the crowd, surprised to see that all the visible eyes were on her, the man, and the trio of referees. For a moment there, she had forgotten about the boisterous fans; now, she felt self-conscious being carried out of the arena by a handsome wrestler.

"Don't look at them," he advised, holding her closer. "We'll be out of here soon enough."

"Okay," Lilian replied in a small voice, hesitantly reaching her other hand up to grasp the one wrapped around his neck. Even more hesitantly, she laid her head against his chest, closing her eyes in an attempt to block out the noise and stares from the fans.

Several moments later, she was aware of being carried through the back by the man, to an office that was designated as the trainer's room for the night. He set her down on an examination table, smiling down at the blonde. "You good?"

"I… I think so. The pain's going away," Lilian replied distractedly.

"Good."

For a moment, they were silent, then he spoke up again. "I have to go get ready for my match," he told her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

"Thanks," Lilian replied. "For everything. You didn't have to come out there to help me, but… you did. So thanks."

He looked at her hard, then answered, "Jarrett's a dick. He has no right laying a hand on you, or any other female." Glancing at the clock, he said, "Take care of yourself. Try not to piss anyone off for the rest of the night, okay?"

"Okay," Lilian replied. He winked at her, then turned swiftly, walking out of the room. "Wait, she suddenly called, disappointed when he didn't hear her.

"What's your name?" she softly asked the room.

* * *

An hour later, she was finally allowed to leave the trainer's office with the orders to rest her knees and ice them down for the next few days.

To her relief, the pain had pretty much subsided, minus an ache that had settled in the side of her right knee. Still, she limped slightly as she tried to make her way through the arena, trying to find the women's locker room so she could just grab her stuff and go. The backstage was so freaking big, she was sure she made a few wrong turns…

She was lost in her thoughts when a figure slammed into her from behind, her breath rushing out of her in a surprised gasp as she hit the hard wall.

Lilian rested against the wall for a moment, then gasped as someone yanked her back by her shirt, slamming her down to the ground gracelessly. She looked up, fear pitting itself in her stomach when she saw Jeff Jarrett looking down at her.

Instantly, she attempted to scramble away, kicking desperately when Jarrett grabbed her left leg. "Please… don't do this," Lilian pleaded, kicking again.

"Look at this… a blonde woman on her back," Jarrett merely laughed in response. "Just the way it should be."

"Fuck you," Lilian snapped, anger filling her Latina blood at this statement. She jerked her leg back, not surprised when Jarrett didn't let go.

"No, fuck you, baby," Jarrett smirked. "I'm gonna break your fucking leg this time. And there's no one here to help you this time."

He wrapped his leg around hers, and the little blonde didn't have to time to even open her mouth to scream before someone tackled Jarrett, knocking him off and away from the terrified blonde on the floor.

It was him again.

Lilian scrambled backwards, pressing herself against the wall, terrified as the man repeatedly punched Jarrett in the face.

"Don't you ever," another punch, this one drawing blood, "Touch her again! You fucking BASTARD!"

Jarrett lay limp in the man's grasp on his shirt, and the brown haired man shoved him down before quickly turning to the little blonde.

"Are you okay?" he asked, extending a hand to help her off the ground for the second time that night.

"I… I think so," Lilian stammered, accepting the gesture. "He… he said that he was going to break my leg…"

"Yeah, I heard," he replied grimly. "But he didn't. And he won't bother you ever again."

"How can you be sure of that?" Lilian asked shakily, well aware of the fact that the man was holding her hand.

The brown haired man stopped, wrapping an arm around the tiny blonde in front of him. He cupped her chin, tilting her head up so she was looking into his dark eyes. "Hey… trust me. I'm not going to let him hurt you," he whispered.

"I… I appreciate that" Lilian was unsure of how to answer, mesmerized by his deep pools. Instead, she chose to admit, "I feel horrible about this, but I don't know your name."

He chuckled, turning so they could walk down the hallway, keeping an arm wrapped around the blonde as they made their way through the halls. "Do you want my real name, or my wrestling name?"

"Either would do," Lilian replied, a wary smile coming over her features.

"Well," he replied. "My opponents call me Val Venis… but you, Ms. Garcia, can call me Sean Morley."

* * *

End 


End file.
